Kill Me Twice
by Miss Loquacious
Summary: Centuries in the future 'lives' the automaton Kagome, the Replica of Kikyo. Serving as an operative for the military, she comes into conflict with the dangerous enemy spy Inuyasha during a mission that will alter her virtual life forever. Inukag
1. Exploiting A Weakness

(I will not update this story till I get five reviews, I won't bother otherwise. So please review mkay? I feel neglected! tears) 

I feel a disclaimer is unnecessary as this is on a fanfiction site. Remember all characters belonging to Inuyasha are not my own, but this story is, and the other characters.)

-Wild's Daughter

Kill me twice 

**Exploiting a Weakness**

Ardonne, Montalia, 1:00 am, August Fourth, 4063 

The cool night air swirled over the silence of the docks, carrying with it the sharp tang of salty sea. The water lapped against the concrete, its spray caught by the breeze to add its own chill to the air.

The skies were pitch black, the silvery light of far away stars stolen by artificial light. All that remained of the diamond strewn heavens of generations ago was the waning crescents of the transparent moons. Like ghosts, the sliver of once pearly brilliance fades into the abyss of the universe; they can no longer outshine the light below.

Beneath the void that was the sky assembled the shadows, the harsh sea air biting at exposed skin. Not a sound was made, not the rustle of cloth, nor the crunch of objects underfoot; nor was a word spoken, no greeting, introduction or farewell. The figures grouped into two separate parties, facing each other in the cold predawn.

They were difficult to distinguish in the darkness of the docks; their ebony garments a perfect camouflage. Their business here in the depth of the night, in the freezing wind by the ocean was a mystery; as were they themselves are a mystery.

Two people emerged from heir respective groups, and paused two feet from each other. They stood there silently for a few moments, as if they were passing information mind to mind. A thin package emerged from under the bulky clothing of one of the shadows, which quickly disappeared into the other's clothing.

Then, without prompt or ceremony, the figures faded into the night, disappearing to destinations unknown.

The dock remained still, except for the flicker of shadow as it dislodged itself from behind a crate. The witness to the strange dealings lifted a hand and spoke in a whisper of breath, "We've been betrayed."

Secret Military Facility, Location Unknown, Six Months Later 

The underground lab was bright and sterile, the white walls unadorned and the benches uncluttered. It was a windowless room, the harsh light manufactured artificially, the air processed and refined.

Only one living being was in this plastic prison, and he had dwelled here so long he had forgotten the touch of sunlight. Not that he was concerned with such a trivial thing, not when his creation was only moments from completion.

The man stood next to a long stable, his crisp clothing covered by a white lab coat which reached his knees. He had the look of a once handsome man prematurely aged by sorrow and ill health, his stormy grey eyes sunken into a face lined by heartache. The man's skin was a sickly pallor due to months without sunlight and little sleep. His red hair was cut rigidly short, its fiery hue dulled by the silvery grey that was dashed through it copiously.

His black glasses slid down his nose, forcing the scientist to yet again right his spectacles.

The man's eyes never left his creation though, the very image of someone once lost to him; but no longer. A brief smile graced his features; lending life to his face as he reached out to touch the synthetic flesh of his creation.

Upon the table lay the culmination of all his months of work, his years of attempting and struggling, yet failing dismally; to recreate the dead.

Even under the harsh artificial light the plastic skin seemed soft and alive, her features smooth and realistic, not a machine made from silicon and wire.

The automaton was beautiful, like a blooming flower, she was marred by neither time nor sorrow. Her pale skin was rosy with life, the ebon tresses of her hair coiling around her shoulders, like the night sky the scientist had been long denied.

Her lids were closed over her eyes, as if she were merely sleeping, if lifelessness can be called slumber. The spark that was life had yet to touch her, she was just an empty mannequin; but not for long.

The scientist reached out a hand to brush his fingers against the wire that connected to the android's left ear, this cord was even now transmitting the necessary data to her memory core.

The man's eyes lingered lovingly over the oval face of his revived beloved, or rather, her Replica. He had waited years to see her face again, and soon, he would hear her voice.

**Instigating Systems….**

**Loading Software….**

**Assimilating Data…**

**Activating Personality….**

**Initiating Egocentric Perception….**

**Instigating Cognitive Awareness…**

**Activating Logic….**

**Initiating Emotion Sequences….**

**Connecting Sensation Network….**

**Activating Memory Files….**

**Load failed….**

**Rebooting….**

**Done, Installation Complete.**

**Initiating Life Simulation Algorithms….**

A sudden jolt of energy flared through the polymer muscles of the artificial girl, causing her to quiver under the shock of sensation. It was like being stuck with lightning, to be suddenly stuck with the force of existence.

Her eyes snapped open, burning with the revelation that had come with the abrupt nature of her 'life'. Her glassy orbs stared into reality lifelessly, black as obsidian. It was as if the vestiges of her non existence still clung to her, carried along into the first moment s of her virtual animation

Gradually; light penetrated her ocular receptors, and the voids of her pupils and they receded, allowing the metallic silver of her eyes to shine through.

She blinked, and it seemed as if her lids washed away the remainder of death that had shadowed her eyes, replacing it was confusion and fear.

The eyes sought something to grasp unto in the sea of her incomprehension, something to stop her from drowning in all the new sensations and emotions.

The first thing her ocular receptors recognized was the aged face that hovered over her. The android's data recognized the face belonging to a male, who exhibited the recessive gene of red hair. His hair was dulled with grey, and the automaton knew from her data that the cells that produced melanin in his hair follicles were dying.

He was not a handsome man, at least, not any longer. Her grey eyes traced the weathered planes of his face, and the deep tell tale wrinkles of despair.

By consulting her database, she assumed that this man was her creator by the lab coat he was wearing. As her eyes scanned his face and she whispered her first ever words, "Who are you?" her voice was light and melodic, with a slightly unnatural metallic sound to it.

The scientist looked as if the world was shattering, his grey eyes wide in despair. A frown deepened the creases on his brow, his voice sounded in her synthetic eardrums, "Are you alright?"

In answer to his query, the robot's eyes glazed over as if clouds had rolled across her gaze. It took a few moments before the emptiness in her eyes was replaced with the artificial spark of life, which meant she had completed her scan of her systems. "All systems are fully operational, Architect."

A shadow flashed across his eyes, a fleeting realization of a nightmare. His voice was pitched irregularly, and her data told her this was an indication emotional distress, "Do you know your name?"

The droid's eyes emptied of life for a few moments before verve resurfaced, "My designation is 842659."

What the Replica didn't realize was her lack of recognition meant to the Architect, what a crippling failure this was to him.

The transfer of the Original's memory data to the Replication's Memory Core was unsuccessful, that meant that _he_ the mastermind of his generation could not recreate his deceased beloved. Because without yesterday, today has no meaning, she had no memory of him… and their love.

The distraught scientist turned his back on his masterpiece, the automaton that had been funded by the Government. He had no use for an empty Replica; it caused him too much pain.

He might find her useless, but the Military wouldn't.

And so I was cast aside, as if my cutting edge circuitry was just metallic garbage. My Emotion Simulator would have generated the sensation of betrayal if I had the memories of my predecessor. But in retrospect, he would never have discarded me if I had.

I searched the software and I discovered my creator's name, it was Houjo. From a brief search of the internet I could glean that he was a well renowned scientist that had disappeared only to resurface mysteriously.

His goal had been to create a true Replication of human life, in a way he did, I have the capacity to feel and to think, even to imagine. Unlike other machines who were without the ability of independent thought.

I was not the first human seeming creation, other automatons had come before me, but my verisimilitude was so exact that I could blend amongst the masses. I believe that because the Architect put so much of his own soul into my crafting he was able to recreate the semblance; no one else had dared to recreate the dead.

I also searched for the name of my Original, but it was as if she had never existed, no woman of my appearance seemed to be connected to Houjo in any way.

My armature had been constructed to withstand much more than the flesh of any human; my synthetic skin was even self-repairing. Under my seemingly fragile form, I had enough weaponry to devastate a city. Such advanced artillery however was inaccessible unless my current commander expressed permission through a spoken number sequence.

I also had information regarding the use of physical weapons and many forms of Martial arts. So I came combat ready the instant the Military brought me.

They disapproved of my emotion simulator however, preferring a ruthless killing machine. But the company that the Architect was a member of assured them it was vital in the prevention of me turning rogue.

A Rougue Android, such a thing is this modern era's greatest fear. Artificial life that would just as quickly kill their master as obey him.

My Simulator generates an objective irony at that concept, to be destroyed by your own creation… I find it amusing. That thought leads me to wonder if my Original had a sense of humor akin to mine or maybe my codes could not express hers in their proper form. I am more inclined to believe my codes have changed over time, as a result of my ability to learn and adapt. Not that it matters.

The officers at the facility called me by my designation, 842659. But after a time I grew weary of the numbers, but what was a name suitable for an automaton other than a code?

Kagome… the caged bird of a children's game. She had never had a childhood, so let her name be of excitement and joviality.

The newly sold automaton awoke to her life in the military service from the confines of her Containment Case, her internal clock rousing her from standby as the metallic click heralded the opening of the padded darkness.

She wore lose army fatigues of varying grays with an energy vest fitting over her torso snuggly. Her feet were in knee high black boots which seemed to be suited to hiking and physical pursuits witch the gripping ridges on the soles.

The grey eyes of the automaton locked onto the man before her Case, who by his camouflage fatigues belonged to the Military she was now property of.

The robot examined the young man before her, who by the set of his features was a cold individual. Kagome initiated a appraisal of his combat abilities and weaknesses immediately, and after a quick scan she had determined many interesting things.

Firstly by his body temperature and the flux of his blood, the robot was able to determine that he was an "XXY Male". This indicates he had a genetic disorder known as Klinefelter's syndrome meaning he had a pair of X sex chromosomes instead of just one along with the Y.

He exhibited the characteristic lanky build and youthful facial appearance but was without gynecomastia. He didn't seem much affected by this genetic malfunction, and may not even know he had it.

The girl could also determine through the electric activity in his brain that he was ambidextrous, meaning he could use his left and right hands indiscriminately.

She hypothesized he was in his early thirties despite his seeming youthfulness and was well trained in combat.

The man spoke, "So the robot the Commander ordered was created as a Replication of some dead woman, then?" he stated, "I doubt he will be happy about that, he does have adverse feeling towards women in the military."

The automaton stepped from the chamber and came to attention with seemingly practiced precision, "This is 842659 reporting, sir."

The man nodded dismissively, and said, "The Commander wants to see you, follow me."

The automaton followed the officer, her emotionless eyes scanning her austere surroundings for any threats. When her strategic functions saw none, she firmly fixed her eyes forward, still maintaining a surveillance of her environs.

The base was lit with florescent lights, and not a zephyr of wind could find its way here, this made the robot sure they were either underground or in a sprawling facility without natural ventilation.

The whirl of her inner apparatus inside her silicon skin sounded uncannily like the exhalation and inhalation. Her eyes blinked and fluttered like a human's would, and her movements were smooth and natural as if her muscle was flesh instead of polymer.

The machine was lead into a huge gym, which was filled with every device known to man for increasing fitness. The machine scanned her eyes across the room, the corner of her lips lifting in appreciation.

The gym was filled with half naked attractive men, and even though she was not a flesh and bone woman; she could still appreciate the opposite sex.

Movement slowed in the gym as all became aware of her presence, their eyes watching her hungrily. The woman took to sniff of the air, and she nearly gagged on the scent of male lust; the replica deciding to leave her scent functions offline temporarily.

The automaton and her guide passed the sweating men on their way to the cleared center of the room. When they passed a man who was working particularly hard the robot's nose wrinkled slightly in distaste; the scent of male sweat wasn't so appealing, especially to her nose.

She reached the center of the gym and met the Commander face to face; the automaton unconsciously she began the risk assessment of the middle aged man before her.

He was a once virile man succumbing gradually to decay, the Replica would hazard he was in his early fifties. His hair was completely grey and his joints moved with the jerky movements that indicated imminent arthritis.

The skin of his face was folding into wrinkles as it succumbs to the earth's gravitational pull, once firm flesh now sagging. But his eyes were unclouded by age, still as alert and active as ever. By his body language and his brain activity, the robot gauged that he was a strict man with little patience for fools.

The automaton came to attention and waited for the man to speak, and he did, "I assumed when we paid for a Automaton with great combat prowess we would receive a machine that was in the shape of a male." He said bluntly, his cold eyes surveying her, "But it seems a scientist would rather spend his time creating a love slave instead."

The gym rang with the laughter of the men, who had paused in their activities to watch the proceedings. The automaton starred straight at the man, her hands clenching into fists before she spoke, "If you doubt my mercenary prowess then you have fallen prey to a popular weakness, sir." She stated smoothly, "If you doubt my ability then test me."

The officer shifted his weight and lifted a brow, "Very well, I just hope that when you are destroyed your parts may be recycled into a more worthy model." He made a small gesture at the nearby men.

Suddenly the mood in the room turned deadly, and the machine shifted into a fighting stance as seven men surrounded her.

The Replica seemed to be unconcerned that the approaching warriors were heavily corded with biological muscle. With only a moment's warning, the men charged the seemingly weak female.

The mechanical woman flew into action, moving from kick to punch in one fluid motion. She danced around her opponents, traveling at a speed beyond human capacity.

In less than twelve seconds all of the men lay unconscious on the ground, bleeding blood that they did not share with the victor. The automaton stood in the middle of the decimated military forces and said, "Exploiting a weakness makes battle all too easy." She stepped over a fallen man and bowed to her Commander

He nodded back at her, his eyes gleaming with possibilities, "Welcome to the Military Service 842569, we will make use of you."


	2. Mechanical Mercenary

**Hey, I decided to update despite the dismal amount of reviews… but please, if you read it, review it. My artistic inspiration feeds on praise…. I haven't updated in forever, but I will give it a go…**

**Mechanical Mercenary**

Some may consider serving in the military a patriot's pride, that in such servitude you redeem yourself. I, 842659, found no such satisfaction. I did not take myself down to maintenance; this emptiness did not originate from a malfunction in my emotion Simulator. It was because my dependency others was insufficient to instigate the emotion file 'Fulfilment.'

'Life' I found was as regimented and precise as mathematical formulae, but such distinction is only accurate, reality can be explained through numbers. But my animation was a remarkable thing, and my egocentric core was nearly exhausted through new experiences. Basic knowledge was programmed into my software, but such innate knowledge could not hope to prepare me for the actuality.

Whilst I was attempting to acclimatise to my existence and assimilate myself into the universe, I also had to contend with the soldiers' base desires. It would be a severe understatement if I was to say I dealt without incident, but it was unsettling to find that biological creatures desired to procreate with myself. Such a practise would be futile, but such is the idiosyncrasy of Homo sapiens.

I did not allow this unsuitable behaviour to last however, a certain incident triggered the necessary wariness in the male organics.

Through the bright underground halls of the secret facility, the automaton strode; the sound of her footfalls echoed in the sterilized atmosphere. The refined air filtered through her imitation lungs as she conducted herself like she was a real woman of flesh and bone, not wire and silicon.

She passed the many doors that lined the wide thoroughfare, only a flicker of her argentum coloured irises, revealed that she took note of the schematics of the building. Nothing could pass by the analytical mind of the automaton, her preset sensors easily detecting discrepancies.

The robot turned the final corner and she swivelled her head to let her artificial eyes gaze into the Training Hall. She strode through the doors, assuming a swagger that her data base had tagged as 'confident'. She would need such a appearance to gain the respect of the trainees.

The automaton scanned the room with her metallic grey eyes, accessing the occupants in an involuntary search for threats.

Through her precise if brief anatomical assessment of the homo sapiens, her software quickly discriminated between the recruits and the instructors. The recruits have a lesser muscle mass and their stature was closer to the ground. They were also younger in appearance which was apparent in their faces and the rhythm of their hearts.

The machine had been debriefed earlier that her role in the facility for the time being would be to instruct the raw recruits. The Commander hypothesized that her acute assessment abilities would enable her to correctly train them.

The automaton knew that this arrangement was only for the period before the window for her first mission was open. But this made her Emotion Simulator generate the file entitled "Impatience", which made her artificial skin feel tight with the need to get away. She considered it to be an interesting sensation, and wondered where in human evolution these feelings that were stimulated by emotion were deemed necessary.

The automation was brought back to her current situation when her sensors became aware that she had been standing still uselessly for a disproportionate amount of time instead of completing her duty. Inaction led to stagnation.

Her piercing grey irises gazed over the newly conscripted recruits, she suddenly found the program "Interest" flaring to life, and she suddenly didn't mind. This circumstance gave her the opportunity to observe and experience; humans were a fascinating conglomeration of contrasting forces. Their hectic pace and the confliction between what was spoken and what was done made them fascinating.

From the threshold, the machine watched the recruits practise basic grappling techniques. Her internal calculations estimated they were about fifteen or so, and the data in her memory bank sparked with surprise. This resulted in "Curiosity" as the customary age of soldiers was past the age of majority.

One pair caught her attention, she was unsure as to why at first before her ocular receptors zoomed in to appraise their faces. By brief analysing the facial structure and build of the one that caught her eye she was briefly "Amazed". She saw parallels between her own face and his, the program "Curiosity" began to hum.

His skin was nearly as pale hers, the recruit's face nearly the exact replica of the robot's, except the jaw was slightly more pronounced and masculine. His short black hair was the same ebony black as hers; the only difference was their eye colours. His being a soft gentle brown whereas hers was acerbic silver.

He was paired with a boy, who was of he same slender build and slightness. His hair was black too, pulled out of the way by an elastic. He had the same soulful eyes, with a light dusting of freckles across his nose.

The boy with the eerie similar visage was attempting to accomplish the simple throw, but instead of throwing his partner he ended up sprawled on the floor alongside him.

Wide eyes blinking in shock, the boys attempted to emerge from the tangle of limbs, but failed their arms and fell back into a pile.

The automaton's Simulator flared to life, the outside stimulus initiating the programme "Amusement". It induced an interesting feeling, as if warmth filled her chest and sought as means out through her lips.

The machine's metallic laughter echoed throughout the large hall, causing the undivided attention of all the organics to focus upon her as she stood framed in the doorway.

The emotion converted into sound waves faded, and her lips quirked into a smile as she strode toward the fumbling pair of adolescents.

She looked down on the pair, aware of the "weight" of eyes upon her but unflustered by it. A soft smile accentuated the genuineness her artificial face, a maternal compassion filling her gaze.

The machine reached down, and hoisted the boys into the air effortlessly, setting them down on their feet with ease. The boys blinked again, eyes wide as they watched her.

The android had evaluated the boys earlier and her conclusions invoked her inclination to help them, hopeless cases they may be. Neither had the apt nature for a warrior, it was blatant in the way they held themselves, the gentle light that came from their eyes. Each moved with a reluctance that was almost palatable, their techniques slow and half hearted at best. The militaristic part of her programming found this "Contemptible" but this reaction was conflicted with her Personality.

The machine felt her polymer 'heart' jolt, a tense sensation running through her limbs. The Persona Matrix inside her instigated the file "Sympathy", which she found an uncomfortable feeling and thus, she immediately went about fixing it.

The boys were blushing furiously, their eyes daring around at the oddly silent training hall. The automaton felt "Relief" at the fact that her appearance had taken the attention from the boys, but this pause in training would not do.

"Why do you stand about idly? This is a training hall is it not?" Suddenly the observers turned their eyes away in a flurry of movement, all the while sneaking glances at them. She did not care, now was the opportune time to alleviate the teenagers' ineptness.

"That manoeuvre is simple once you comprehend the basic motions." She said, placating the two teenagers, "I never had the stipulation to learn it, the necessary information was downloaded directly into my memory."

The two boys glanced at each other uneasily, realising that she was the android that they had heard about.

She ignored there uneasiness and continued, "Do you desire that I provide the instruction that will facilitate your execution the technique?"

Again the boys glanced at each other, before the boy who looked so similar to her nodded. Both seemed baffled, the automaton lacked the knowledge as to why, but she disregarded pursuing this in favour of implementing her orders.

"Alright, firstly I want you to address this one as Instructor. I have been charged with the task of training you recruits, so I deem this designation accurate. I will refer to you as Student followed by a name… what title belongs to each of you?"

"Kohaku." Replied the freckled boy shyly, before glancing about at the onlooking crowd.

"Souta." Replied the boy whose body was similar to her armature.

"Excellent, now Student Kohaku, would you initiate a strangle hold please?" the automaton said with a glance at the freckled boy, turning her back to him to assist him.

Hesitantly, with a brief glance at his friend, he boy placed an arm around her neck. The robot could discern through the heightened body temperature that Student Kohaku was "Embarrassed"… such a wasteful emotion she thought intellectually. His blood had rushed to colour his face, how unnecessary.

Yet her Emotion simulator hummed with "Amusement"; he was embarrassed to embrace her, she who was an object; not a flesh and blood woman. She suppressed the desire to shake her head, humans were funny creatures. Though she was based off one of them, she did not understand them on a basic level.

The machine shifted her feet; tucking her chin as her left hand grasped the boy's wrist and her other hand gripped the bicep. In one smooth, seemingly practised motion, the automaton dropped her weight and forced the boy over her shoulder to slam into the mat.

She lightly stomped on his life side before wrapping her fingers around his wrist, pressing her thumbs into the knuckle beneath his ring finger.

An involuntary gasp of pain came from the boy's mouth before he thumped the mat with his free hand, and she switched her grip and pulled him to his feet.

She turned to the watching boy and asked, "Do you require further demonstration, Student Souta?"

At Kohaku's panicked look, Souta shook his heady emphatically, "I-I think I have it now, thankyou!"

The automaton turned to meet the man how she sensed walk up to her, his movements triggering vibrations in the ground she could detect.

He was only a little taller than her, his age would be likely around twenty five by his appearance and the way in which he moved. The vibrations spoke of little deterioration of the cartilage in his knees; meaning he was not far removed from growth.

The automaton felt her Scenario Dial trigger an alert; it whirled as she was warned that this male had an ulterior motive. His scent carried unappealing undertones of male pheromone and sweat, his eyes lingered on areas other than her face. Yes, he was definitely heading towards trouble.

"Yes?" The automaton's grey eyes glittered as a brow arched, "If you require instruction I suggestion that you initiate the lesson with an inquiry."

"Well…" the man tossed his head as his eyes drifted from her face, "Depends on what kind of lessons you are offering." The automaton noticed the male's pupils swell as he took in her form, "Let's just say I would be an eager student."

The automaton blinked, "I cannot offer assistance unless I know the nature of your query." She replied, "I would appreciate a succinct question."

The soldier exhaled before smiling, "I desire instruction in the…" he leaned in before whispering, "Carnal pleasures."

The machine's Emotion simulator nearly burned with the reaction as the file "Embarrassment" flared inside her core, instigating the curious red blush to heat her cheeks. "I… well…" It would seem her vocal synthesizer had a momentary malfunction, the robot opened her mouth again, "This one does not understand, your implications are plain yet the reasoning seems flawed." She begun with a puzzled frown, as the "Embarrassment" settled down and was replaced with scientific curiosity. She had not been programmed with much knowledge of sex, except for that it involved a male and a female and could result in procreation. "Have I been misled to believe that copulation is the prerogative to reproduction? Since I am unable to bear offspring it would seem such an endeavour is doomed to failure and therefore superfluous." She tapped her chin as she continued to speak earnestly to the stunned soldier, "Also you may require medical treatment due to the fact that sexual attraction is the result of several factors such as olfaction, audition and visual perception. Because my machinery is not biological it would be impossible for your senses to perceive myself as an appropriate partner for fornication."

The bewildered soldier quickly dismissed her arguments, "I don't want children I just want to…" the man leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

The automaton's face went beet red before she her brows drew down in "Anger" and she slammed her boot into the man's solar plexus. The male was airborne as he flew across the room and collided with a group of soldiers pretending to practice.

"Standby 842659!" a feminine voice yelled out in command.

Suddenly, the automaton was unable to move; the Voice Imprinting triggering an impulse coded into her very being. The machine's muscles went slack and her form crashed bonelessly to the floor, except her perception had not been disabled.

Her half closed eyes fell upon a woman approaching her and the automaton's Simulator triggered "Distress" when it was unable to process the woman's attributes. She'd been cut off from her systems.

The woman's eyes stared down coldly at the automaton, her pink eye shadow highlighting her dark brown stare. Her tilted eyes and distinct racial features distinguished her as Asian, like her own Original. Her black hair was upswept in a ponytail to leave only a fringe loose. A sneer played across her lips, "You cannot injure a human, machine; even he is at least living."

"Sargeant Sango-" began one of the men as he lifted the comatose lady's man from his prone position.

"Take the idiot to Dr Miroku, I'll deal with him later." She ordered before returning her intense gaze to the robot at her feet. She didn't notice them salute and drag off the amorous soldier as he focus rested solely on the thing before her.

Oh how she hated Machines.

"You forgot yourself, 842659." Sango spoke coldly, her lip curling up at the automaton, "You are only a Mechanical Mercenary; you aren't allowed the liberty of emotional responses." Turning to Kohaku and Souta she said, "Make sure the machine is delivered to Marion; I want it purged on personality; go!"

"Yes Sis-" Kohaku coughed before saluting, "I mean Sargeant Sango!"

As the two boys carted away the heavy machine with the aid of five full grown men Sango turned to the girl behind her, "Get the General on the line, I'll be damned if I allow him to leave a Robot under my jurisdiction."

The woman strode off, leaving her assistant to the daunting task of messenger between two warring officials.

_I just hope I don't get shot for doing this_, the woman preyed bleakly.


	3. Artifice with Amnesia

Ghost in the Shell

**Hey! I've decided to continue this story, but the updates will be VERY slow if I get no reviews. I do need a good reason to ignore life in favour of a fanfiction! Here it is!**

**Artifice with Amnesia**

The artificial female lay unmoving; light penetrated the thin eyelids of the automaton, but she could not see. The filtered red light caused the pulsing 'veins' to stand out in contrast to the soft synthetic tissue that made her skin. The temporary loss of her sight forced the machine to rely upon her other senses, and she reached out into her formless world with blind fingertips.

Well she would have if she possessed the ability to move.

The echo of footsteps in the distance, the buzz of electronics, and the steady bleat of equipment formed the android's existence. She felt the male connector slotted into her ear as her code was left bare for the humans' viewing pleasure. The artificial woman didn't understand why that was so unsettling. She felt more 'vulnerable' than the inability to see and move left her.

_It is by far more repulsive than being disrobed mentally by male eyes and that leaves me feeling chilled._ The automaton would have shaken her head despairingly if she could.

The steady pulsing of two heartbeats played a harmonious counterpoint to their exhalations and the shift of their bodies. The whirr of the air-conditioning hummed in the vents overhead, a constant murmur that underlaid the conversation that the two organics held over her head as if she were an inanimate object.

_Oh wait… I am. _

"I still can't believe this is a machine." the warm youthful voice sounded from somewhere to the left, but the listener could not turn her head to place the vocalization to a face. She had been disconnected from her Motion Drive.

"Amazing…" the voice whispered into the darkness as the automaton felt a hand trace her cheek, "It looks so real…" The Sensation System translated the touch to her Cognitive Core as the humanoid registered that the female was left-handed due to the calluses that thickened the skin on the thumb and palm. Their placement indicated she was a manual labourer, most likely dealing with machines due to the texture of the burn at the base of her index.

"The manufacturer cast it from the mould of a family friend." Came the terse reply, Recognitive Memory whirled as the genuflections and speech pattern matched that of Sergeant Sango.

The sensation of 'Cold' seeped through the cloth of the robot's clothing; a chill shuddered through her frame her pale skin rising into goose bumps. _But who was she? _The silent queries danced in the mute automaton's mind, as she lay prostrate on the examination table._ Why did he create this unit from her design? Perhaps the Original is deceased, and I was formed in this fashion due to human 'sentimentality'?_

The robot only understood such reasoning in the intellectual abstract sense, just as she recognised death as deletion. How could she know what death could truly be when she had yet to understand life?

"Give me a break!" bit back the woman with an emotion that the automaton knew as 'exasperation', "When was the last time you saw a robot that could breathe?" A fingertip nudged the false mammaries underneath her camouflage shirt, which elicited a slow burning 'rage' to trigger and simmer beneath her composed features. "And these things look better than implants! Just who is the Doc and where can I get his number?"

A short sharp laugh cut through the air as a smirk coloured the Sergeant's speech, "Dr Hojou does not retain the expertise to operate on living patients, it appears he has a history of prescribing cures far more lethal than the ailment." Sango's voice was heavy with derision, yet it had a warmth to it the automaton was unfamiliar with. "So unless you would not object to bleeding to death for the enhancements, I suggest we return to the matter at hand?"

"Spoilsport…" muttered the woman under her breath before she went back to her area of expertise, "Okay, after I ran the diagnostic over the machine's internal systems I have to say; the Doc's is a genius." Footsteps echoed in quiet as the patter of typing filled the air, "Its so complicated, the different systems and software link up like a giant tangled spider's web. The bot's personality centre sits inside the thick protective armour of the skull, ya know like the huge hairy arachnid at the centre of the web?" the rhetorical question was met with silence, and Marion continued on in 'embarrassed' haste. "I'd say the internal wiring rivals the real thing; not to mention it's damn near indestructible; even a bullet won't penetrate much further than the epidermic layer. And check this out." The clatter reached a feverish pace, "She has actual blood running through her; my guess its in case the synthetic skin gets sliced so she may seem human. Bloody brilliant." The technician waited again for her pun to evoke 'amusement' in her audience, but the Sergeant remained silent and the automaton found nothing humorous in the obvious assertion. _My design is brilliant, and of course bleeding was bloody… Homo sapiens are very odd._

The woman coughed, but the android doubted it was due to sickness; she heard no congestion in the organism's lungs or throat. "Her armature is also excellent, extremely flexible while still strong, nothing short of the force required to cut diamonds will break it." She seemed to have dismissed her listeners from her reality altogether as she continued with barely a breath, "And don't get me started on her auditory sensitivity, olfactory capacity and vision!"

The Sergeant interrupted the ramble before the eager female proceeded; "What about her Command Imprinting? Whose voices have been recorded?"

"What? Oh! Yes…" the woman said 'sheepishly', the automaton barely had a chance to feel a flicker of 'amusement' at the term, before the technician spoke again. "Well that's were this gets a little… interesting." Her voice was laced with 'glee' as she continued, "We know she was implanted with knowledge of coordinating her movements and enough to understand her surroundings to a degree. But there's a few memory files here sitting untapped… Its really amazing I flicked through a few page… its like reading a biography of the Original woman's life; the Doctor must've had the hots for her bad!" The woman's tone altered to convey 'confusion', "But it didn't assimilate into the Memory Core for some reason… kind of like trying to mix oil and water. I don't know why though, in theory it should have been fine…"

"And how does a dead woman's memories relate to the imprinting?" came the cool quizzical yet slightly amused reminder from Sango as she shifted impatiently.

"Well obviously I found the General's and your vocal recognition pattern files but I also uncovered a few unknowns." Her voice buzzed with electric 'curiosity' as the pace of her typing doubled once again, "They aren't titled, and so encrypted it leaves me dizzy. Same with the memory files, there's a few in there that just don't feel right…"

"Can they be removed without damaging the machine's effectiveness?"

"Yeah I'd say so, it's just extra data. She can function on just her motor skills if it was necessary." The keyboard was silent for a moment as she shot her superior a question, "Want to me to delete them?"

There was a short pause, the automaton found herself holding her breath; which she quickly chastised herself for the foolish idiosyncrasy. "Yes, I don't want strange files that we cannot anticipate; not if the machine will not require them."

"Aye, aye captain!" Marion answered before plunging back into her work.

A frustrated growl broke the silence five minutes and thirty eight seconds later, calculated the robot's internal clock. "Is there a problem?"

"You could say that, her whole system is Protected; the good Doctor set up an impossible encryption! I can't change so much as a kilobyte." Her heartbeat raced with her anger, "Dammit!

The muscles in the Sergeant's body tensed, "Can you hack the programming?"

"In my dreams." She replied shortly, "I can't change nothing; not unless we dismantle it and hit the reset button that sits in the sella turcica where pituitary gland should be." Obviously the Sergeant's body language expressed a lack of comprehension because the woman clarified, "In the middle of the brain." The woman was silent for a moment before she giggled, "I wonder if an android has sexual needs?" Sango must have replied to that with her frosty glare as the technician coughed, "Ah well you see, the pituitary gland controls emission of the hormones that stimulate lust… Don't give me that look! I mean he even gave the bot all the parts! Wonder why…"

The automaton's cheeks tinted a bright pink as her Emotion Simulator hummed with 'embarrassment' tinged with the darker undercurrent of 'mortified fury'. Hm… her maker had created quite a list of strange emotional responses… The machine wondered why the shift of facial colouration was necessary in an Assassination Android. Double A's (as she was referred to in a portion of her programming) were not effusive creatures that effervesced with emotions. Strange indeed.

"I have no desire to discuss the possible usages the Doctor had in mind for his toy." Came Sergeant Sango's voice scornfully, "I am not unaware that there is a thriving market for mechanical whores."

Marion dismissed them with a derisive snort, "They're just life-size Barbies, this little 'Love-bot' looks she could be your sister."

"Just because the Original was Japanese it does not mean that it and I appear related." Retorted Sango tersely.

"Eh, you get my meaning. It blows my mind every time I look at it; I mean dayom! Creepy; it reminds me of my intern days at the hospital…" The automaton heard her shudder, "Humans just aren't meant to be sliced open and taken apart." Her feet shifted and for some reason the machine nearly felt her stare, "Bots I can handle, they don't bleed or whine about the hospital food."

"Just remember how dangerous the verisimilitude is." Interjected the roboticist's superior with a note of warning through her words, "I don't want to even think of the repercussions if it turned Rogue, or if the Chinese Government got a hold of the schematics of the design."

Another shudder ran through the woman's frame, "You got that right; there's enough firepower in that five foot five doll to send New Jersey sky high!"

"Not if it can't unlock that mechanism." Retorted the sergeant, "There's a safeguard installed and the sequence of circumstance and command to trigger it is quite complex."

"I hope that the general doesn't employ that feature; it'd waste all the magnificent circuitry." She gushed with true sentiment as the automaton felt a hand trace her bicep.

"That's all you ever think about." Came the Sergeant's bemused voice, "You are married to your machines." Suddenly her voice took on a hint of a threat, "You are not intending to wed an appliance are you?"

The warm laugh that greeted those words was slightly forced, the false edge barely discernable, "Me? No way! There's already too much man-flesh around here to deal with, I ain't gonna build some bot! Unless…" Her voice trailed off, and her voice grew 'contemplative', "I could imitate this machine's systems, upload a passable Personality Simulation to it and construct an drool-worthy exterior-"

"Do not even consider it." Came the short command.

"But-" came the pleading tone of the technician.

"No."

"… Just cause you repress your sexual urges doesn't mean everyone has to!" replied Marion tartly, "You really should do as your body is screaming for and relieve some of that tension with the all too willing and eager Doc Miroku."

"I- What! I mean… I never-! He's so-!" spluttered the ever composed Sango indignantly, before she drew a shaky breath and steadied herself, "You shouldn't speak so to your superiors."

"I like to live on the edge."

"I should make you take leave." Threatened Sango, "Being surrounded by machines 24/7 is not healthy; it has resulted in you devising fallacious and sordid scenarios to amuse yourself."

"No!" came the panicked denial almost instantly, "I mean… I like my job, how many people can say that?"

The woman sighed, "If you insist, but we're strayed far from the matter at hand," her voice was cool and brisk as she returned to business, "So what about the Personality Simulation? I will not allow a machine the capacity for uncontrolled outbursts of emotion."

Marion blinked, "The android's got an attitude?"

"The android been exhibiting indications of personality and it reacts to situations based on preconceived notions of individuality. I witnessed the machine assault Private Flinders for speaking to her."

Marion swallowed a giggle, "I bet the bastard tried to get it into his bunk."

"Hn. Be that as it may, I cannot risk the liability of this machine not completing the mission because of uncontrolled emotional responses. We might as well utilise a real soldier who can at least comprehend the concept of loyalty." Her smooth speech had darkened on the last part, roughened with an undefinable emotion.

_Anger? Regret? Shame? Whatever emotion it is, the scars run deep. _The automaton could hear the separate strains of tightly coiled emotion through her words; it was not a superficial wound.

"Regardless… are you certain that nothing may be done?"

The patter of typing echoed in her auditory sensors, "Well… to tell you the truth, the automaton hasn't developed a personality." Came the reply after a few minutes, "I think it just recognised a threat to it and eliminated the risk. I'm certain I noticed a file that said getting funky with strange men isn't the done thing."

"Hmm." Sango paused to think, "That's acceptable, at least I know it won't be passed around by the soldiers." The file 'Fury" exploded into life at the cold words of Sango, her inner mechanisms whirring with the force of it.

_How dare she enunciate such a slanderous falsehood when she is far more capable of salaciousness!_ If the automaton could move she would have throttled the repulsive human, a glitter of cool fury filled her. _I have never been treated in such a-_

The moment shattered, the robot surprised at her own thoughts. _What…? What would I have as a comparison? _Shaken, she nearly missed Marion's next words.

"… is her mission?" Asked the tech inquisitively, "I mean to go to all the expense… who does the government want eliminated?"

"That is classified, as you are already aware of." Sango scolded the woman, "If I elucidated you I would be endangering the entire effort and risking my position. The General would love to see me disgraced; I shall not deliver to him an opportunity."

The other gasped, "But this entire branch of the military was started by your father!"

"I know." The woman replied curtly, her voice laden with suppressed "fury" and "frustration", "Even he is only a puppet for the U.S President, I know that he wants to usurp the operation; that's why he brought the robot in."

"Damn…" the mechanic muttered, her voice edge with the same cocktail of emotions, "What are you going to do?"

"Simple, I'll destroy the damned youkai that have conquered Japan and I'll take _my_ forces back to my homeland; I don't care for U.N politics." She spat out the last like a curse, her voice deepening with her distaste, "I've been exiled too long."

"But the youkai are so powerful!" Marion protested, "How can you hope to defeat them?"

A smile touched Sango's words, but they remained cold, "Even if demons have no souls, they can feel; I'll destroy them through that weakness." The woman's words softened beyond human hearing, "Inu no Taisho will pay for killing my father."

Piercing white light left her pupils as mere pinpricks amidst the turbulent grey of winter skies. Her systems hummed back to life after the four hour thirty four minute and fifty seven second suspension of her systems.

It felt good, blindness was disorientating. The robot sat up slowly, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the light. She needn't have bothered as a shadow fell over her.

"Wow… the pupils actually contract!" exclaimed the familiar voice of the technician designated "Marion", the automaton looked up to see a young woman hovering over her.

An emotion that was recognised as "excitement" danced in the woman's dark brown eyes, her full lips drawn taut in a grin. The technician's skin was a light "chocolate" tan, the robot had no idea where that comparison had originated and internally made a note to discover what chocolate was.

The mechanic babbled on inanely, one of her oil stained hands pinching the automaton's chin as she shone a small torch into her ocular receptors. Instinctually the robot flinched, but after a stern command she allowed the human to shine the light into her eyes. It didn't hurt, but her programming wanted her to look away. The automaton overrode that command whilst accessing the strange being before her.

By tone of the female's voice and her appearance she judged her to be no older than twenty five and no younger than seventeen. The robot's senses delved deeper, and drew back in surprise. The technician had an autoimmune disorder known as type 1 diabetes mellitus which is caused by the cessation of the function or destruction of insulin producing beta cells in the pancreas. Its cause is unknown and individuals in perfect health may be afflicted with it. The imitation guessed the technician had contracted it in mid adolescence and due to the fact she was still alive she must be receiving treatment with exogenous insulin through injections to replace the missing hormone.

Allowing this information to process, she returned her attention to what the woman was doing. The human had satisfied her fascination with the dilation of the automaton's pupils and was rummaging with her back turned in a drawer. "Dammit! Where did I leave the- Aha!" retrieving the object she approached the robot with a sharp implement designed to cut food.

A knife.

"Unnerved" at the turn of events, the automaton watched the bizarre human with wary eyes, "What do you plan to do with that knife?"

The technician grinned, it was a sadistic smile, "Make you bleed of course!" she piped up cheerfully, grabbing the robot's arm and slashing the inside of her lower arm before the machine could protest.

"Pain" jolted through her Sensation receptors, searing through the network in an instant. Red blood oozed from the shallow cut. Fascinated by the liquid, she watched the red trickle down her arm to drip from her fingers. Suddenly, her wound began to burn; as if hot metal were cauterizing the flesh. Eyes wide with shock, the robot watched her synthetic skin begin to sew itself together. The pain faded, and so did the cut; not a blemish remained.

Marion gasped and grabbed the robot's wrist with one hand and run her finger over the space; her eyes wide with 'awe'. The automaton could hear the woman's heart palpitating fast, her breath hitched in her throat, "Damn…"

When the technician reached for the knife again, the automaton's hand lashed out to grasp her wrist, "It would be preferred that you desist your course of action as the programmed responses are 'painful'." The robot said the last word as if tasting it, finally comprehending the meaning.

The roboticist promptly dropped the knife, staring at the robot with wide eyes, "You feel pain?" she asked wonderingly, "What about pleasure?"

The automaton tilted her head slightly, as she released the woman; her eyes suddenly glassy as she searched inwards, "I don't know… Pleasure is the opposite of pain?" She asked, having retrieved a definition from her hard drive.

"You haven't felt pleasure? What an experiment _that_ would be!" she said excitedly, before the technician lifted a hand to caress her chin in thought, "Hmm…You can't eat, so that's out of the question…" Suddenly her grin was mischievous, "Well you could entertain the proposal of Flinders, I have heard he's talented in the sack…if nothing else!"

"Horrified mortification" flared to life, along with a red blush as her blood rushed to colour her face. She didn't really know what copulation entailed, and her Personality Simulator discouraged curiosity. All she knew was that it was definitely an 'embarrassing" topic.

Marion choked on her laughter, "My god… you're blushing! A 2 billion dollar military grade Assassination Android is blushing because I mentioned sex!!" She brushed away a tear, "Oh...ho! Your creator sure had a sense of humour!"

As the redness receded, the automaton merely stared at the human; who appeared to be a little pale and dizzy. "Perhaps when you are finished mocking me you will go and take your insulin injection?"

The mechanic stared, silenced by her words, "What? How did you know?"

The robot merely shrugged, "It is evident in your skin tone and heat signature."

The tech whistled, "Wow, I bet Miroku would love to get his hands on you!" pausing for thought, a grin broke out on her face, "In more ways then one!"

The automaton suppressed her 'embarrassed' reaction and stated coolly, "Are you done with your examination?"

Marion laughed, "What? No, we'll need to keep you in for the next week while we run over your capabilities before you are sent out on your first mission." Her tone brightened considerably, "And since you have no need of sleep, we'll be at it all night!" Her brown eyes practically glowed, "This is going to be awesome."

The robot sighed in "exasperation", So _much for being rid of the effusive technician and her strange obsession with my binary code._


End file.
